


Bros to the Soul

by Naeshira



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: BFFs, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Valentine's Day Fanworks Exchange 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naeshira/pseuds/Naeshira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets and scenes from the most epic friendship of Shitty and Lardo, accompanied by awesome songs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bros to the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Broditore, who requested platonic 'bros to da soul' Shitty and Lardo. (Hey, got the title from that!) I hope your Valentine's Day is lovely! 
> 
> This fic is accompanied by a playlist of songs, found here: http://8tracks.com/hannah_jad/bros-to-the-soul

**Pacific Rim Remix**  
~  
It’s the first team-wide movie night of their sophomore year and Shitty and Jack are squished next to each other on a large beanbag. It is their home this year, so while they don’t get the privilege of the couch, they still get better seats than the frogs.

Pacific Rim is a beautiful movie, and it’s one that Shitty wishes he’d first watched sober. A wasted rendition of the movie is bright colors, loud noises, and he’d remembered rambling at Jack about the beauty of Mako Mori as a feminist hero. 

“Who do you think would be your jaeger co-pilot?” O’Donnell had asked, leaning over from his spot on the good armchair. 

Shitty’s first reaction was Jack, but then as he thought about it, he realized that they weren’t exactly drift compatible. Friends, yes. Best friends, even, but drift compatibility was something else. Jack hadn’t answered, but he got that look in his eyes like he was remembering something (or someone in this case) that he didn’t want to think about. 

When Shitty sobered up, he wondered when he’d find his own drift partner. A month later, she showed up.  
~~~~~

 

 **I’ll Make a Man out of You**  
~  
Larissa Duan survived hazing. She had had to wear her shoes on the rink because she couldn’t skate, besides being shit-faced drunk, but she did it. And she finished the trial in the Haus first, because Ransom and Holster were trying to sabotage each other and the other frogs.

Larissa Duan, the day after Haze-a-palooza, sent out a team email with the official team phone tree, the official game schedule, the practice schedule, a recommended work-out regime for the next month, and motel locations and rooming lists for their next three away games. Larissa Duan signed that email, “~And don’t forget to bring your own snacks! Love, Lardo~” 

During that next month, any player not at team weight-training received frowny-faced text emojis from their manager.  
~~~~~

 

 **Let’s Kill Tonight**  
~  
Haus Doubles Pong Championship. Lardo and Shitty on one side of the table. Ransom and Holster on the other. They were neck and neck, with two cups each. A crowd stood around them, drinking and cheering loudly. Shitty had dragged Jack into officiating “the most important pong game in the history of the Haus, bro!” and he stood with his arms firmly crossed to deter any partiers from shoving drinks at him. 

Ransom held the ping pong ball dramatically in the air and waited for Jack’s nod. He missed. Half the crowd cheered and half groaned. 

Shitty’s turn. He scored and did a stupid little dance to the roar of the seniors. Holster drank and angrily smashed the red solo cup into the table, almost upsetting their last cup. He took the ball and aimed with a vengeance, scoring and raising his arms triumphantly to the crowd. 

Lardo took the ball. She took the cup. She threw back her shot and winked across the table. And then, almost falling backwards, she threw the ball. It soared through the air and landed in the last cup, splashing a bit of PBR on Ransom’s face. 

Holster slumped, his defeat bowing him down to Lardo’s level. She stood on tiptoes and burped in his face. The team lifted their manager in the air in celebration, and her feet didn’t touch the ground for hours.  
~~~~~

 

 **Poet**  
~  
Shitty had once told Lardo that every artist was a poet, but better. They both had the ability to convey emotion and thought through imagery, but artists could do it without words. Lardo had painted him a collage of organic shapes layered with bright colors. She named it _Poem_. Shitty took it home over break and hung it in his house. 

The next year, she painted a picture of a moustache, surrounded by geometric shapes similar to the notes found in hockey playbooks. There were lots of Xs and Os, and a smattering of the symbols for male and female. She named it _Shits_ , though her professor couldn’t figure out why. She smiled when she was finished with it, and took it home over break to hang in her own house.

Shitty wasn’t too keen on the idea of living forever, because he was philosophical like that, and believed in living in the moment. That if you lived forever, the moment would become blasé, and not mean as much. 

Lardo got it. She always did. Even when she didn’t look like she was listening to Shitty’s long-winded rants, she always was. But she wanted this to last. She wanted to keep enjoying the moment with Shitty. So she didn’t show him her portrait, but she kept it.  
~~~~~

 

 **Hall of Fame**  
~  
Everyone knew Shitty would go far. He was smart, he was talented, and he never gave a shit what people thought. He was gonna be a lawyer. He was gonna make a difference. 

Of course, Lardo knew he already made a difference. If Bitty fulfilled the role of team mom, Shitty was the cool uncle. He was the one you turned to when you had a problem, the one who supported you loudly from the bench, the one who got embarrassingly drunk at parties. 

Shitty was not the one who scored the goals. He was never in the running for most points. He played hard but he wasn’t Jack. Even still, the team would be off-kilter without him. He was necessary. 

Shitty never broke any records, but was still the only one who stayed consistently within the team’s personal hall of fame.  
~~~~~

 

 **Final Countdown**  
~  
Thesis papers. Tests. Essays. Projects. The end of the semester was a whirlwind of stress and even Bitty’s sympathy pies could only do so much. 

Lardo was good at sitting quietly, letting Shitty rant and rave about his thesis at her. Alternately, Shitty was good at being supportive, and letting Lardo paint when and where she needed, even taking a turn at creating and emailing the workout schedules she usually made for the team. 

They were just counting down to the final party, and the final bell of the semester at this point.  
~~~~~

 

 **Good Time**  
~  
#Epikegster2K14 was beautiful. It was better, Shitty thought, than the first one. He was gonna miss this. He rejoined Lardo on the porch after kicking sick people out of his room. He’d clean it in the morning.

“Brah!” Shitty called, slumping down on the rail so he could throw an arm around her shoulders. 

“Dude!” Lardo agreed. Her party shutter shades had gone missing, but she didn’t seem to mind. They were both in happy drunk mode, pleased with the party, pleased with themselves, pleased even with the line to take a selfie with Kent Parson. That line was now leading out the door. 

“What am I gonna do next year?” Shitty asked, watching a drunk couple stumble down the porch stairs. “You guys are gonna let me come back to party, right?”

Lardo stared at Shitty before smacking his arm. “Of course, you really think we’d turn you away from a party?” She laughed and leaned further into him. “Shits, it doesn’t matter how many years from now, we’re always gonna party. We’re gonna make life a party.”  
~~~~~

 

 **Pacific Rim Dubstep**  
~  
It’s the first Haus-wide movie night of Shitty’s last semester, and he’d finally claimed the couch, with Jack smooshed between him and Bitty. Bitty of course, sat delicately on a pillow. Lardo is perched half on the arm of the couch and half on Shitty. She’s seen the movie about a thousand times, so she’s brought her sketchbook with her. Ransom and Holster have commandeered the chairs, which leaves the frogs to fight over the lone beanbag. Dex and Nursey had each sat down at the same time, ending up squished together and trying to shove the other off. Chowder fixes the problem by sitting in front of them and forcefully lounging back on their legs.

This time Shitty stays sober to watch Pacific Rim. It’s been two years since he’s seen it and it’s even more beautiful than he remembers. High or not, Shittty still rambles at Jack about the raw female power of Mako Mori, and Lardo nods along in agreement. 

Ransom and Holster are loudly talking over the end credits and Chowder is trying to convince Dex and Nursey that they’re drift compatible. Bitty looks at Jack and asks him who he’d pick as a jaeger co-pilot. Shitty can see just enough of Jack’s face to see that he’s got a different look than he did last time he was faced with that question. This time it’s a fond look, and even though Jack shrugs like he doesn’t know, Shitty’s pretty sure he has an idea. 

Lardo nudges him and shows him a page of her notebook. It’s a sketch of a jaeger, with color notes and functions written around it. Across the top, she’s written a selection of names, including “Samwell Alpha,” “Pong Champion,” and “The Knight Manager.” Shitty can’t help but grin. He found his drift partner.  
~~~~~


End file.
